Christmas Fever
by CecilyLightwood
Summary: Summary: Peter and El weren't planning on having a guest for Christmas... Note: The epilogue is up!...any comments are appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

"P-P-Peter?"

"Neal? Where are you?" Peter asked worriedly, automatically checking the signal from Neal's ankle tracker.

"M-M-Merry Christmas," Neal sounded exhausted and almost confused. Peter let out a soft sigh, never remembering a time when Neal sounded so vulnerable.

"Where _are_ you?" Peter asked again, sounding firmer. There was a blank silence penetrated only by Neal's raspy breaths, and then a click and nothing more.

"Dammit" he swore, knowing Neal had hung up. Since Neal was only allowed to go in a two-mile radius of June's house, Peter knew he hadn't gone far.

"June? Is Neal there?" Peter asked over his phone.

"No. Why?" June asked, concern lacing her tone.

"He just called, but it's probably nothing. Anyway, Merry Christmas" Peter hung up and walked into the kitchen.

"What's wrong hon?" Elizabeth asked, noting the worried look on Peter's face.

"It's Neal. He was supposed to be having dinner with June, but she said he's not there. And he just called me."

"Maybe he just went out to get a last-minute present" El suggested, "don't worry."

"Still, I'm going to go look for him. I'll be back in time for dinner. I promise" Peter grabbed his jacket and hurriedly kissed El on the cheek. She shook her head, bemusedly watching Peter stride out of the kitchen.

Peter was cruising around June's neighborhood when he noticed a crumpled heap in the front of an alleyway. He never would have seen it except for the flashing neon 'Merry Christmas' illuminating the huddled figure. He slowly got out of the car, pausing for a moment with his hand on the door, squinting and trying to see if the form was Neal.

"Neal?" Peter asked, crouching down and gently rolling Neal over. The pallor of Neal's face and the fact that Neal was only wearing a thin cotton t-shirt and pants with no jacket, frightened him.

"Neal!" Peter lightly slapped Neal's cheek; finally eliciting a slight response as Neal's remarkably blue eyes fluttered open.

"Merry Christmas…" Neal smiled weakly.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you drunk?" snapped Peter, angry quickly overpowering his concern.

"I-I-I'm sorry. How's El?"

"Don't change the subject. What are you doing?" Peter had already taken off his coat and wrapped it around the ex-con's slim and shivering frame.

"I don't know…June wasn't home when I got back and I wanted to call you…" Neal looked away, an embarrassed flush coloring his cheeks.

"You're coming home with me."

Neal was too exhausted and cold to argue. He stumbled as he leaned against Peter and slid into the passenger seat.

"El…we have a guest" Peter murmured, as he practically carried Neal into the house.


	2. Chapter 2

"Peter, he has a fever," El said worriedly, pressing a hand to Neal's forehead.

"Hey Elizabeth" Neal smiled wanly, only to grimace as he moved his head too quickly.

"Neal what were you thinking?" she asked, sounding exasperated.

Neal's only answer was to pale and stagger to the bathroom, where Peter found him retching over the toilet.

"I'm s-s-sorry" Neal hiccupped miserably as he flushed the toilet.

"It's okay…shhh" Peter soothed, pulling Neal into a hug. He held Neal with one hand, and wet a washcloth with the other. Gently pulling back from Neal, Peter wiped Neal's mouth and hastily rubbed the washcloth over the ex-con's tear-streaked cheeks.

" I feel s-s-sick…make it stop. Please, Peter" mumbled Neal, slumping against Peter.

"I know…just try to relax" Peter comforted, stroking Neal's dark hair back from his sweaty forehead. He looked up to see El standing in the doorway, her eyes dark with sympathy.

"Peter, you should probably get him in bed before he falls asleep" she suggested softly.

"C'mon Neal" Peter said, gently pulling Neal upright. Neal stumbled weakly, his head drooping as Peter dragged him down the hall to the guestroom. He deposited Neal's limp body on the bed as El came in with extra blankets. She gently tucked the blankets around him and smoothed his dark locks away from his damp forehead.

"Think we should call a doctor, hon?" El asked.

"No…I'm sure he'll be fine," Peter said. El simply raised her eyebrows, it sounded more like Peter was trying to convince himself that Neal would be okay.

"I-I-I'll stay with him. Try and get some fever medication into him" Peter offered.

"Are you sure, hon?"

"Yeah, go to bed. I'm sorry about Christmas."

El took one last look at Peter who had situated himself in a chair next to Neal. She smiled, and yawned. Even on Christmas Peter was still working.

**linebreak000linebreak**

Neal woke up a few hours later. His head was pounding and he felt nauseous.

"Neal?" Peter's voice was worried. He saw Neal's face go slightly green and quickly grabbed a trashcan and held it under Neal's face as he vomited.

"Hey, I need you to swallow these" Peter couldn't help feeling sorry for Neal. The ex-con was a mess; his eyelids were drooping, his hair was sticking up absurdly, and he was sweating and shaking.

Neal painfully swallowed the fever medication along with a few sips of water and Peter helped him lie back down, pulling the covers up to his chin. Peter watched as Neal's eyes slid closed and walked out of the bedroom to empty the trashcan.

When he came back, Neal was sitting as upright as he could be, blue eyes frantically searching for Peter.

"Neal, shhh…" Peter soothed trying to coax him to lie back down. Neal clutched his shirt, pulling Peter close.

"P'ter, I'm scared…" Neal whimpered into Peter's shirt. Peter couldn't do anything except rub Neal's back; he didn't realize Neal could be this vulnerable. Neal was normally so cocky and sleek, now all he looked was scared and vulnerable.

After a few minutes, which seemed like a few hours, Neal's grip on Peter's shirt relaxed and his shaky breaths evened out.

"Merry Christmas, buddy" Peter gently eased Neal back against the pillows.

He stood up stiffly, stretching his cramped legs. Smiling at Neal's relaxed face, now free of a feverish flush, Peter turned off the lights. He paused for a moment in the doorway, just in time to hear Neal murmur something.

"Merry Christmas, P'ter."

**Author's Note****—There may be an epilogue…if there's enough interest! :) Please leave a comment!**


	3. Epilogue

**Epilogue:**

Neal woke up, blearily opening his eyes. He involuntarily let out a groan as he realized he was lying under a blanket on El and Peter's couch.

"Merry Christmas" Peter was standing over him.

"Oh, yeah…" Neal struggled to sit up. El came in wearing a bathrobe with Satchmo trailing her.

"Merry Christmas" Neal smiled.

"You still haven't told me what you were doing in that alley…" Peter replied.

"I was…um…" Neal trailed off, blushing. Peter raised an eyebrow, he had never seen Neal this awkward.

"Going to get you guys presents" mumbled Neal as his blush deepened.

"Hon, you don't need to get us anything" El said gently.

"Wait. There's something you can give me" Peter said.

"What?" Neal looked up hopefully.

"Let me get home in time for dinner. I didn't even eat last night."

"You weren't concerned about me? I'm hurt" Neal stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

"Cowboy up" Peter snapped, a grin helplessly breaking out on his face.


End file.
